Only One Thing
by silverbullet-1st
Summary: Voldemort’s been defeated. The Wizarding World is happy. But the deaths are looming over all of them, and Harry and Hermione find a way to deal with it. Each other. WARNING: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH! ONESHOT


The aftermath the Final War didn't go so well for everyone

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. Unfortunately. **

**Only One Thing**

The aftermath the Final War didn't go so well for everyone. 

The Minister for Magic met an untimely end when a group of rogue Death Eaters decided that the Minister was one of the key people that were responsible for the downfall of Lord Voldemort. They assassinated him exactly seven hours after the battle and were arrested shortly after – but not before murdering two other Ministry Officials; Arthur Weasley and Percy Weasley – the latter of which had recently made up with his family, admitting his mistakes and offering his sincere apologies to all for his stupidity. Arthur's sons and Percy's siblings were effected greatly by this, not only because of the fact their mother – Molly Weasley – had been murdered _during _the Battle, while trying to protect her daughter from Bellatrix Lestrange, but because they had recently been reunited with their brother and were incredibly sad to see him go once again.

One of these Weasley's, Ronald Billius Weasley, was fatally injured during the battle, whilst trying to aid his best friend in the fight between him and Voldemort. He was kept in St. Mungos for almost four days, but he didn't make it. 

His two best friends, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, took this blow hard.

Hermione Granger lost her Father near the beginning of the war when Death Eaters pinpointed the location of her house and attempted to murder her before she could offer any support for Harry. Try as he might to protect her, Daniel Granger had been no match for the Death Eaters and they took him down easily, intent on killing her mother next. Fortunately, Harry Potter chose this moment to arrive, as apparently, the two of them had arranged to sneak her out in the middle of the night to begin the hunt for the Horcrux's – the destroying of which would aid in the downfall of the most powerful Dark Lord the Wizarding World has seen. Single-handedly fighting off the Death Eaters, Harry Potter then took Hermione – who had been knocked unconscious – and Lillian Granger to St. Mungos, where they received emergency treatment. 

Harry Potter – the Saviour of the Wizarding World – seemed to take the biggest blow from all that happened, and it was only Hermione's emotional support that got him through. 

Alongside these deaths, others perished, including; Kingsley Shacklebolt; Seamus Finnigan; Dean Thomas; Minerva McGonagall and Argus Filch. 

The Ministry has organised a party for this coming Saturday Night, though it is still open to debate whether Harry Potter will attend.

Harry Potter stood on the balcony of the building the Ministry had decided to throw that Party in, bathed in only the moonlight, the paper clasped tightly in his hand as he glared at the article. They'd invaded his life, taken away his personal memories and written them down on paper for the whole world to see. There were pictures to accompany the text, and it only made it worse; seeing himself as a moving picture on the paper, holding Hermione and near sobbing his heart out. It made him angry and he wanted to hurt whoever had taken it. Where did they get off prying into his personal life? His personal feelings? It wasn't for them to look at. The _Daily Prophet _was hardly ever about real news any more. It was all about him. This story even continued onto the next seven pages. 

Screwing the paper up, Harry threw it over the side of the balcony, watching it drop into the hedges at the bottom. Resting his palms flat on the waist high stone railing, Harry closed his eyes and bowed his head, bringing it almost level with his hands, and sighed. 

He had tried. He had tried so hard to protect everyone and _still _people had died. People he loved and cared about, and try as he might, he _couldn't _bring them back or replace them with anyone else. And it _hurt_. It hurt so much that half of him was telling his body to just throw himself off the balcony now and be done with it. What would it matter? He'd take away his pain. 

But then the other half of him told his body to stop. Why would he even think something like that? There were still people who needed him. There were people who loved _him_ and he couldn't leave them. He _wouldn't _leave them. 

Harry heard the doors slide open behind him, and knew who it was without even having to look up. She stepped out into the cold night air, closing the door behind her before walking up beside him and leaning on the railing, folding her bare arms across her chest. 

"Everyone's looking for you," she said, her voice quivering with the effort not to cry. Harry nodded his head slowly. 

"I know, Hermione." He stood up and opened his eyes, looking out over the balcony before turning his attention to her. She was wearing a black dress that hung down to just above her ankles, showing her figure perfectly. Harry's eyes raked up her body and he wondered when she'd become so beautiful; When she'd changed from that bossy, know-it-all to the wonderful woman that now stood in front of him. Contrary to popular belief, they _hadn't _been going out since the night he saved her and her mum.

"You're cold," he stated, looking at the goose-bumps on her arms and then back up at her face. Hermione looked away from the floor and up into his eyes, loosing herself for a few moments in their depths. 

"A little," she admitted, blinking back tears and looking at the cobbled floor again. Try as she might, the effort not to cry was overwhelming, and Harry saw the moonlight reflect of the tear that dropped to the floor. He let his hands slide off the wall, moving across the balcony towards her and wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace. She buried her head in his chest and bunched his shirt up in her hands, gripping it as if she never wanted to let go. 

"I miss him, Harry," she told him, a sob escaping her despite her efforts to keep it back. "I miss him _so _much." 

"I know," Harry replied, feeling tears welling up in his own eyes. "I miss him too." He could hear his voice cracking, and he buried his face in her hair, pulling her closer. 

"I want him to come back, Harry," Hermione whispered, her tears already wetting his shirt.

"I do too, but he can't. He's gone." 

"Why did he have to die, Harry?" 

"I don't know," Harry replied, shaking his head. "I-I don't know." Another sob escaped her and she gripped his shirt tighter. And they stood there. Together. Silently remembering their best friend, who had sacrificed his own life to save theirs. Silently wishing that it had been them. So they wouldn't have to feel the pain that now engulfed them both. 

"I don't want to go back in side," Hermione whispered. 

"We have to," Harry told her. "Everyone's here t-to see us-"

"I don't care." She shook her head and pulled him closer. "I want to go home." Harry finally felt the tears in his eyes fall, the helplessness in Hermione's voice finally breaking him. She needed him, and he needed her. They needed to get through this together. They needed each other, because they had no other lifeline to hang on to. They had nothing left. They'd lost almost everyone they loved. 

And they weren't coming back.

"I-I know, b-but we can't," Harry told her, drawing in a deep breath in an attempt to steady his breathing. "Almost the entire Wizarding Population of the UK is here. Here to see us. Me and you. The t-two people who killed the Dark Lord-"

"Three," Hermione corrected. "Three….Ron…" 

"Ron isn't here, Hermione," Harry reminded her, though he was fully aware that she hadn't forgotten. 

"And they don't care about him," Hermione replied, scathingly. "T-they don't care that he's gone. Not like we do." 

"I know, Hermione, but we can't stay out here. You know we can't. Come on." He tried to untangle himself from her, but she held him tighter, still not willing to let him go. "Hermione, please." 

"I don't want to." 

"We _have _to." She shook her head. "We'll leave as soon as the speeches are finished. Remember, I have to make my speech? I can't leave because they'll just come after me. We'll leave after that." 

"You promise?" 

"I promise. As soon as I'm finished. We'll go back home a-and we can look through some old photo albums a-and we'll just be together. I promise." He did promise. He would never break a promise to her. Not ever. 

She nodded slowly, and this time when he tried to pull away, she let him. Then when he brought his hands up to cup her face, using his thumbs to wipe away her tears, she let him. And then he linked his arm with hers and walked her back in to the building, through the sliding glass doors and the small room with the fire that was beyond it, until they reached the main hall, where everyone was assembled. And he didn't care that he looked like he had been crying. He _had _been crying. And he had a good reason to. And he wanted people to know that. 

The hall went silent as they two of them descended the stairs and he could see Hermione looking at the floor, trying to hold back tears that so desperately wanted to come. He could see the remaining Weasley's looking at them – the only others that truly understood what they were going through. He could see Lupin and Tonks, newly wed and the only source of happiness that was still in his life. He could see all the people he had grown up with since his first year at Hogwarts – his first kiss, his first enemy and he knew that his first friend should be among them. And they knew it too. 

They nodded at him as he passed, not daring to say anything, but needing them to know that they were there. For him. For Hermione. Whenever they needed them. Harry nodded back and continued, feeling Hermione grip his arm tighter. He squeezed her hand reassuringly, before steering her over to the Weasley's table, taking a seat with his family. 

And then everyone started talking again. 

"Are you all alright?" Harry asked, looking round at them all, knowing the answer even before the question had left his mouth. 

"As well as can be expected," Bill replied, looking round at his siblings. Ginny was sitting in the corner, being hugged by Charlie, who she seemed to refuse to let go of. Fred and George sat on her other side and even they weren't as gleeful and happy as they always were. Bill had taken charge of the family, now that he was the oldest, and Harry knew they were struggling with money now more than they ever had been before. And all the life had been sucked out of their family. And it wasn't likely to come back any time soon. 

The food on the table was untouched. No one was really in the mood for eating. 

"When are they doing the speeches?" Harry asked, looking over at the podium on the raised platform near the back of the room. He was already dreading going up there. But it couldn't be avoided. 

"In a few minutes," Bill replied, clearing his throat and looking round at the newly appointed Minister for Magic. "The Minister is going first, and then the list of who d-died is going to be read out." Harry nodded, hearing Hermione whimper beside him and then feeling her bury her head back in his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer, looking back round as the hall fell silent again. The Minister was up on the stage, his wand in one hand and a few pages of a speech in his other. He took his position behind the podium, cast a charm to enhance his voice and then looked out at the assembled crowd. He began with a cough. 

"We all know why we're here today," he started, looking down at his notes. "It's…not much of a party because too many people have died for us to be able to celebrate. We've _all _lost people we held dear and we've all been effected by this war. 

"However, the outcome _was _in our favour and the Dark Lord _is _gone. And we all know who we have to thank for this." Obviously having watched Harry and Hermione descend the stairs, the Ministers eyes fell on Harry, and he raised the glass that had been resting on the podium. 

"Thank you, Harry Potter." Everyone raised their glasses and a collective four-hundred people chorused, "Harry Potter." 

The Minister went on to read his well prepared thanks to Harry, throwing in a quick thanks to Hermione as well. He went on to say what a great loss everything was, and how he offered his great condolences to anyone who had lost a family member, a loved one or a friend. 

Then they read the list of those who had died. 

Harry listened intently. Most of the names were people he had never heard of before, but every now and then, a name would come up that would strike something in him. Lavender Brown. Padma Patil. Poppy Pomfrey. 

Then the names came that he had been dreading to hear. 

Arthur Weasley. Molly Weasley. Percy Weasley. Ronald Weasley. 

Hermione let out a quiet sob beside him as their best friends name was read out and he pulled her closer, gritting his teeth; determined not to cry. He would be strong. For her. 

A few more people read speeches out, and then it was his turn and all eyes in the hall turned to him. He rose from his chair, feeling Hermione's arms slip away. And he felt empty. There was nothing. He couldn't do it alone. 

"I need you to come up with me," he whispered, bending down beside Hermione and looking at her. "I can't do it without you with me." She took his hand and he led her up to the podium, his fist in his pocket, clenched tightly around the speech he'd composed for the event. 

Then he was there. They were there. In front of the Wizarding World. With four-hundred pairs of eyes staring at them. 

"I-I prepared a speech," he started, pulling it out of his pocket and looked at it briefly before looking back up at the crowd. "A-and it took me ages to write it, but the whole thing just seems…inappropriate now that I'm actually here." He took a deep breath and looked round at Hermione, pulling her towards him and wrapping an arm round her shoulders, while she wrapped hers around his waist, looking down at the floor. 

"I-I've listened to everyone's speeches tonight," he continued. "And you've all thanked me for what I've done, but the truth is…I didn't do it alone. 

"Some of you threw in your thanks to Hermione as a quick one line sentence. But that's not enough. We've been best friends since our first year at Hogwarts. And we've helped each other through some pretty rough patches. I helped her when her dad died and she helped me when Sirius died. And…everything that you say I've done…I have. But most of it was only done because of Hermione's input. 

"My first year; the Philosophers Stone. We nearly died trying to get that, and it was Hermione who saved us. My second year; the Basalisk and the Chamber of Secrets. Hermione found out what it was, and even though she was petrified trying to find out about it, I still got the message. My third year; I met my godfather. We used a time turner. We went back and set things right and I couldn't have done it without her. My fourth year; I _didn't _do those tasks on my own. As much as I'd like to admit I did. Hermione was there, helping me every step of the way, and she was the only one who stood by me. My fifth year; she helped me with the DA and everything. My sixth year; I admit I was an obnoxious…git and I didn't listen to her at all. And I should have, because she was right in the end. My seventh year; she helped me look for the Horcrux's and she helped me destroy them. And then…together, we killed Voldemort. 

"But, as wonderful as this whole thing is, even _she _couldn't have done all this without the contribution of the third member of our Trio; a person whom _all _of you have failed to acknowledge tonight. 

"Everyone who went to school with Ron would have to admit, he wasn't the _brightest _crayon in the box, but he sure as hell was a brilliant friend. And he _didn't _deserve to die during that battle against Voldemort. It was unfair and his life was taken from him through an act of sheer hatred. But he died-" Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "-he died protecting us, and no-one here could understand what that feels like. He was my – _our _best friend for _seven _years. It doesn't sound that long, I know. But in that time, we were both accepted like old friends into his family and we may have had our rough patches throughout the years, but we were always there for each other. All three of us. We would have done anything for each other. We would have walked to the ends of the Earth and back for each other. 

"I love Ron like a brother." Harry looked down at Hermione. "We both do, and we're going to miss him. But…" Harry paused and drew in another deep breath. "-but wherever he is, I know he's happy, because someone like Ron takes happiness and laughter with him wherever he goes and he's brightened up my life for the last seven years." Harry pulled out his wand and conjured up two glasses, holding one out to Hermione, who took it with a shaking hand. 

"To…a wonderful friend. A wonderful brother. A wonderful person. Ron Weasley." The hall echoed with the combined voices of the crowd saying his best friends name, and Harry tipped back his head and downed his glass in one. 

"Thank you." Dragging Hermione with him off the stage, Harry guided her back to the Weasley's table. Bill had engulfed them both in a hug before they even made it to where they had been sitting. 

"Thank you, Harry," he said, and Harry could hear the tears in his voice. "That was wonderful. I can't thank you enough." 

"It's alright," Harry replied. "Everything I said was true. I'm going to miss him. We all are." Bill nodded and pulled back, looking at the two of them. 

"He was lucky to have you both as friends."

"We were lucky to have him." Bill nodded, tears still in his eyes. "Look, Bill, I-I don't really fancy staying here a-and neither does Hermione, so we're going to head home. I promise we'll drop by at the Burrow for a visit tomorrow afternoon." 

"Of course," Bill replied, wiping his eyes and smiling weakly. "Tomorrow." 

Harry nodded, and turning to Hermione whispered a quick, "Come on." She followed him willingly as he led her to the apparition point. And then they left. 

Their apartment was dark. They hadn't been there in days. Since the Battle started almost a week ago. 

Harry flicked the switch on as they walked in, laying his keys on the table beside the door and then closing it. Then he looked around. There were pictures of the three of them everywhere. He remembered hanging them all up with Ron. Trying to teach him how to hold and use a hammer. He remembered Hermione laughing at them from the corner as they painted the walls the Muggle way. He remembered Ron tipping the whole bucket of paint over her head. He remembered Hermione returning the favour and he remembered them both letting him join in. 

A quiet hiccup from beside him brought his attention back to the present and he looked down at Hermione to see her eyes scanning the room. 

"Everything reminds me of him," she whispered, looking up at him, tears brimming in her eyes. 

"I know," he replied, pulling her towards him and kissing the top of her head. "I know, Hermione." 

"Can we…" Hermione faltered. 

"What?" 

"I want to sit in his room," she finished. "I just…just for tonight. To remember him." Harry nodded and pulled her towards the first room on their right, opening the door slowly and then switching on the light. 

Everything was as Ron had left it when they'd gotten the news that Voldemort had finally made his move. His clothes were all scattered around the room. The light from the bedside table was on the floor from where he'd knocked it off the nightstand in his haste to get out the room. The bed was unmade, the covers screwed up at the end. 

And Harry didn't want to touch anything. 

Together, they made their way across the room to the only bare space on the floor, and sunk down to the ground with their arms still around each other, looking at their best friends things. Harry caught sight of something on the floor and he picked it up, wondering what it was. Hermione let out a strangled cry when she saw it. 

The DA coins from their fifth year. They'd been using it as a means of communication with each other. Whenever they were in danger. 

"Oh…Harry, I want him back," Hermione wailed, gripping his shirt so tight that Harry was sure it would rip at any moment. "Why did he have to die? He should be here with us, and we should be celebrating the fact that Voldemort's gone and that you don't have some ridiculous Prophecy hanging over your head any more. He shouldn't have died." Harry clenched the coin in his fist and wrapped his arms around his best friend. 

"I want him back too, Hermione," he replied. "B-but it's like when he went to look for that Horcrux on his own, a-and we were so scared, but we got through it together-"

"But it's not like that," Hermione choked. "Because this time he's not coming back." 

"I know, b-but we'll always remember him. He'll be with us forever-"

"But that's not enough. He's not here and now we have to go on without him. It's not _fair_, Harry…" 

"Nothing is ever fair," Harry replied, shaking his head and burying his face in her hair. "Life isn't fair at all. But remember, we've got each other. I'll always be here for you. I'm _never _going to leave you. Not _ever_. I promise." 

And they sat there, lost in each others embrace and cried for the loss of their best friend. And they didn't know how long they sat there. And they didn't care. 

And by the time they pulled apart, they were both tired and they'd both run out of tears. 

"We should sleep," Harry said, making to get to his feet. And then Hermione kissed him. And he stopped. It was almost desperate. And he kissed her back. And she opened her mouth and his tongue darted out to meet hers, and right now, he didn't care whether she was doing it because she was lonely, or because she really did love him. All that mattered was that she was doing it. Hermione was kissing him. Hermione Granger was kissing Harry Potter. And Harry Potter was as sure as hell kissing her back. 

"I love you," she whispered, her lips brushing his as she said it. "And I have for a long time, and I didn't tell you because I was scared, but Ron's gone, and…and I have to tell you because…you never know how much time you have left, and I would hate myself if you never knew-" Harry shut her up with another kiss. 

And he wasn't sure how they did it, but they ended up on their feet and he had her pinned to the wall, his body pressed up against hers and their mouths locked in a passionate kiss. 

She loved him. She _loved _him. She loved _him. _

It didn't matter how many times he threw it around in his head or how he said it. The three words always meant the same thing. Hermione Granger was in love with Harry Potter. Hermione Granger had fallen for her best friend. And there was only one thing you could say to that. 

"I love you too."

And by _God _did he love her. 


End file.
